Primal
by sss979
Summary: Step two on the path to getting them comfortable with their own and each other's desires. Set a few days after Yearnings. Adult content.


**PRIMAL**

A/N: Happy birthday Carol! And thanks to my cowriter thagrrrl79 for helping me to rewrite this when my computer ate it.

She was the perfect picture of innocence: white sundress, pale pink skin, blonde hair glistening in the light from the artificial sun overhead. She was barely twenty years old, picking flowers from the field as if she were not even half that age, and he was perfectly content to lie on his side in the red grass, watching her with a smile on his face.

"So, if none of this is real," she said, gesturing to the world around her, "does that mean these aren't real flowers either?"

"That depends on what you mean by real," he answered, propping his head up on his hand as she came closer. "They weren't planted here. They have no direct genetic relationship to the flowers on Gallifrey."

"The ones that they were modeled after," she supplied.

He nodded.

"So the Tardis does all of this - _creates _all of this - from... what?"

"Memory?" he suggested. "Imagination?"

"The Tardis has an imagination?" she repeated skeptically.

"That surprises you?"

She cast her eyes about the landscape, a room that simulated the endless fields outside of the Citadel, as if considering it. Given all she knew about the Tardis already, it shouldn't have come as too great a shock.

"No, I suppose not," she finally admitted.

"Block transfer computation," he explained further, watching her with interest as she walked toward him. The light, billowy dress was brushing her knees, tall grass brushing her ankles. And the soft, smooth skin in between... "It's the mathematical composition of the universe. This is her universe; she creates what she wants, where she wants it."

Charley knelt beside him, studying the flowers curiously. "So, if I understand what you're saying correctly, these flowers are nothing but complicated maths?"

He smiled knowingly. "The entire universe is nothing but complicated maths."

Raising a brow, she turned her hand over, studying it for a moment before looking up at him. "I don't think I quite like seeing myself as a giant maths equation."

He chuckled softly, and reached out a free hand to brush the flowers lightly, then her hand, then her leg, setting his fingers gently over the soft white cotton of her dress and massaging gently with his thumb.

"If it makes you feel any better, the whole is greater than the sum of its parts."

She shook her head and laughed. "Only you could make such a boring subject sound romantic."

"Boring?" Still smiling, he turned onto his back and stared up at the artificial, orange sky, tucking both hands under his head. "I can think of _much _more boring things than the composition of the universe. At least there are theories involved, debate, discussion... So few people truly understand it and those who do will never fully explain it, if they even could."

He let his mind wander as he rambled, well aware that he wasn't saying anything of real importance. Not that he cared. He was relaxed, contented. His two companions were safe in the rooms of the Tardis - though he wasn't quite sure which room C'Rizz was in - and they were heading at a leisurely pace to destination: excitement. Nothing could be better. He glanced at Charley out of the corner of his eye, and his eyes were drawn to the sleeve of the dress that was hanging loosely off of her shoulder. He smiled to himself. Well. _Almost _nothing.

She pulled the sleeve back up and shrugged her shoulders in an effort to even the dress out. Then, laying down next to him, she tickled his nose with one of the flowers. "I was talking about maths, Doctor," she corrected with a smile. "Though I do hate to disappoint you, but I can't say I'm all that intrigued by the composition of the universe, either."

"Mmm," he acknowledged lazily.

Sighing contentedly, she laid her head on his chest. "Thankfully, I could listen to you talk about the color brown for hours and never get bored."

"So many different shades of brown," he teased. And she laughed.

"And I'm sure you know them all."

He smiled as he stroked his fingers through her hair, down to the back of her neck, massaging gently at the pressure points near the base of her skull. Lingering there for only a moment, he then drew the stubborn sleeve down enough to give him access to the curve of her shoulder. Breathing slowly, he caressed her warm skin with his palm, from her jaw to her shoulder and back again, smooth and steady. The feel of her made his mind wander over things that were far more interesting than colors and maths.

"Are you happy, Charley?" he asked quietly, reflectively.

"Mmm hmm, quite." She nuzzled into him slightly. "Especially if you keep doing that."

"Doing what?"

She waved a hand vaguely over her head. "Massaging my neck like that. It feels really good."

"Hmm..." He smirked slightly. "I could make it feel even better with this dress out of the way."

He felt the way she tensed even before he heard her squeak out an uncertain, "Oh?" and he chuckled quietly, rubbing a bit more firmly at muscles that had suddenly tightened up.

"Relax, Charley," he whispered. "It was just a suggestion."

She nodded, relaxing slightly though he could still feel her single heart racing against his chest. "I... I know. It just surprised me, is all."

"Why?" he asked, genuinely curious. He smiled. "I've seen you in less."

Her skin warmed as the blush traveled over her face and neck. "Yes, I know you have. It's just..."

But she didn't continue. After a moment, he prompted again. "Just what, Charley?"

She lifted her head to look up at him, and hesitated for a long moment before she finally answered. "I guess... I'm still not used to you seeing me as more than just the human girl who travels with you. Not just because of you... but because that's what I've been telling myself for so long."

He raised a brow. "It's been a very long time since you've been 'the human girl who travels with me'."

"But I didn't _know _that. Not really. Not until you told me."

"So what's your reason for believing it now?"

She hesitated again, and he frowned as he slipped his fingers under her chin and lifted her eyes to his again. "Charley?"

"It's just... well... nothing has really happened since," she blushed deeper and ducked her head, "you know. So I just assumed that was it."

It. He wasn't sure what "it" was, but he was pretty sure from her uncertain, rejected tone that it was nothing _he _had in mind for where their relationship was going. It had been three days since he'd made love to her, and since she'd nervously laughed about hoping it wasn't just a one off. Was she still entertaining that idea? Still worrying about it?

"So because I haven't kissed you in three days, you think I've forgotten?" he asked gently. "Or that it didn't mean anything?"

She drew in a nervous breath and sat up, brow furrowed in worry. She swallowed hard before she spoke. "Why _haven't _you kissed me in three days, Doctor?"

He studied her for a moment, then sat up beside her. Her expression didn't change, eyes remaining locked on his through sheer force of will. She was anxious - not regretting but certainly second guessing her bold question. But she didn't take it back. She didn't rephrase it. She just waited.

Watching her eyes, he cupped her cheek and pulled her closer as he claimed her mouth in a deep, passion-filled kiss. There was no hesitation. No transition, even. He wasn't surprised when her whole body tensed, when she gasped through her nose and almost pulled away. But she didn't pull away. She took a moment to work through the emotions and the confusion. Then she slowly, hesitantly returned his kiss.

He didn't withdraw until she finally did respond, and even then, he lingered, remaining close, forehead tipped against hers as he breathed her breath. It took him a moment of struggling to put his thoughts into words before he was able to speak. "I don't know how to love you Charley," he finally admitted. "I've never done this and I told you, it scares me."

"I know," she whispered back.

He nuzzled her gently until she opened her eyes and looked at him. "But that doesn't mean I've stopped," he whispered. "It doesn't mean I've been able to stop thinking about you - not for a single minute."

Her brow furrowed, as if she wasn't entirely sure whether or not to believe him, and he smiled knowingly.

"It's why we haven't gone anywhere in three days," he informed her, nuzzling gently. "I don't want to put any of us in a situation where our lives depend on my ability to think clearly when all I can think about is how good you tasted."

She blinked at that, clearly stunned, and stammered over a response before she finally managed a weak, "Oh."

He smiled at her, and watched as the lines of worry disappeared, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips instead.

"Thank you?"

He laughed softly and pulled lightly at her bottom lip, kissing her a few more times as he felt her slowly relax again. "I want you, Charley," he whispered. "And it's a strange feeling."

"I want you too, Doctor." She leaned her forehead against his and nuzzled him until he glanced up at her. "But you already know that."

He lowered his eyes again to watch his hand as he slowly raised it to brush the underside of her breast, drifting up toward her nipple. "Friendship, affection... I know how to feel that," he sighed softly. "And a desire to control and to possess... I know that too. But love... and wanting..."

She didn't interrupt as he trailed off, and he swallowed hard in the long silence that followed. He'd had three days to make sense of these feelings, to put them into words. He was no closer now than he had been when they'd left the tiny clearing in the overgrowth to swim back to the Tardis.

He shook his head slightly, watching as her nipple hardened into a tiny pebble beneath his fingers. "Lust is never something I've associated with everything I feel for you," he finally said. "But it's there. In a different way than I've felt it before. And that's hard for me to reconcile."

"How?" she whispered, eyes pleading as she searched him. "How do you want me when you don't kiss me, barely even talk to me, for three days after the first time we..."

He sighed as she trailed off, and shook his head. "I don't know," he admitted. "I don't understand it. I don't even know how to start understanding it."

She swallowed hard, and raised a hand to cup the side of his face as she kissed him, softly, barely lingering before tipping her head down again. "Knowing how to love you has never been an issue for me," she admitted hesitantly. "That comes easier to me than breathing."

He smiled faintly, and let his eyes slide closed as she unfastened the top few buttons on his shirt and slowly slid her hand in, fingertips lightly skimming over his scars.

"But this is all new to me, Doctor. Every single feeling and thought and sensation. It scares me, too. Especially when I think that..." She paused for a long moment, and he looked back up at her. "When you shut me out," she finally finished.

"I didn't mean to shut you out," he said softly.

"I know. I know you didn't mean to, but you did."

"I'm sorry."

She watched him for a moment, then smiled softly. "I know that, too."

She kissed him again, opening to him as she continued to unbutton his shirt. Finally, she broke the kiss, tugging at his bottom lip before pulling away enough to chew on her own. "I was raised to believe that what we did - and everything I _want_ to do - is wrong," she whispered. "That good, proper ladies don't even think of such things, let alone do them."

He blinked slowly, but didn't move and didn't respond as she cupped the side of his face, running her thumb over his lips before kissing him again.

"I just don't want to think that... that you think less of me."

He shook his head, lips brushing hers. "No," he said simply. He watched her for a moment, feeling her hot breath on his lips, and felt a genuine smile work its way onto his face. "You don't have to be a good, proper lady here. At least..." He cupped her breast and lifted it, feeling the weight in his hand. "Not any more than I have to be a good and proper Time Lord."

Her breath hitched as she laughed. "When have you _ever_ been a good and proper Time Lord?"

"Certainly not in the past three days..."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so _not _kissing me was your way of misbehaving?"

She didn't give him a chance to reply before she kissed him, parting her lips as she slid her hand into his hair, her tongue exploring for a long moment before she pulled away.

"In that case, I think it's time to make you a bit more proper."

He laughed, low in his throat, and smiled as their lips barely touched again. She was waiting. Inviting. But not pressing. Still, her pheromones were thick in the air between them, almost overpowering in their intensity. He drew them in deeply, and lowered his eyes as he paused for a long moment.

"I came into your room this morning," he admitted quietly. "Just to watch you sleeping."

"I thought I'd heard someone come in. When they didn't leave right away, I figured it was you."

"I thought about waking you." He nuzzled her gently, eyes still lowered. "Pulling the blankets down and kissing you everywhere. I was trying to remember how you taste."

She brushed his lips with hers. "I wouldn't have objected."

"I could smell you," he whispered. "I could see you in my mind, just like I've been seeing you over and over again these past few days."

She watched him with interest, silently. He could feel her eyes on him, but he kept his down, watching his hand as it moved slowly up her thigh, drawing the lightweight fabric of her dress up an inch at a time. His breathing was heavier now, and he didn't try to hide it even though it nearly drowned out his words.

"I remember how you _feel_..." he breathed. "Swollen... slick... hot to the touch..."

Her eyes slid closed as she swallowed, breath deepening and skin flushed. The hand in his hair clenched as the other ghosted up his chest to his shoulder, pulling herself closer to him. She licked her lips, but still didn't speak.

"The way you moaned when I spread your legs apart... and that sound you made for me in the back of your throat when I kissed you there... opened you up for me..."

His hand slid under the bottom hem of the dress, finding the soft, warm skin of her thigh. His thoughts were muddled, and there was no filter between fantasy and speech. As they came across his mind, they came out of his mouth.

"I remember how you arched your back when you felt my tongue inside of you... how wet you were... the way you throbbed and gasped and held onto me..."

He kissed her slowly, lazily. He was drowning in pheromones and primal responses that felt as unfamiliar as they were satisfying. All he wanted was to push her back on the grass and open her up. The thought made him even more dizzy.

"And when you can't take any more..." He lost the words. They were gone in the haze of adrenaline and hormones more powerful than he ever remembered them being. Moving his hand to the hot inside of her thigh, he buried the other in her hair and pulled her into a deep, needful kiss.

Her nails dug into the flesh of his shoulder as she moaned into the kiss and spread her legs wider for him. Breaking away, taking his bottom lip between her teeth as she did, she laid a trail of hot kisses along his jaw and down his neck.

Her parted knees gave him access. His hand moved up to the damp fabric at the apex of her thighs and without thought, he rubbed his fingers back and forth a few times, feeling her fluids soak through. Briefly, he considered the cost-benefit ratio of taking hold of her hips, flipping her over onto her knees, and burying himself to the hilt inside of her hot, human body. Pushing and pulling, deeper and deeper.

The thought should've repulsed him. Instead, it made his breath come even harder, his hearts beat even faster. He wasn't sure why. He'd always felt some measure of primal urges - in some bodies more than others - and he'd fought them for most of his lives. But this was more. It was deeper, more intense. His temperature was rising with every moment he allowed himself to entertain these fantasies. He wanted her - _needed _her. But he couldn't quite remember clearly enough...

Curling his fingers around the edge of her knickers, he slipped two of them easily inside of her slick heat. He was barely able to breathe, and certainly not to think, as he pulled back slightly from her kisses, met her gaze, and touched his fingers to his lips. The memory of her taste triggered instantly, and he let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

Holding his gaze, she moved both hands to undo his cravat and finish unbuttoning his shirt. Pulling it out of his trousers, she splayed her hands across his stomach and moved them up his chest, back to his shoulders, pushing his shirt and jacket off. Her eyes moved with her hands as they slowly slid back down, fingers tracing scars until they came to rest at the top of his slacks, hesitating at the clasp as her eyes met his again.

He watched her for a moment, just long enough to start breathing again, then finally released his not-so-gentle grip in her hair and used both hands to push the sundress up around her waist. His fingers hooked under the waistband of her knickers and he pulled down, feeling threads rip in his haste, never taking his eyes off of hers. He jerked them down to her knees, out of his way, then crawled forward, pushing her back into the soft red grass.

He claimed her mouth, kissing her deeply as he plunged his fingers into her depths, struggling to get closer, deeper into her. His control was slipping, and he knew it. But he couldn't stop. Three days of thinking about her, and debating just how hard he should be fighting it. The truth was, he didn't want to fight it. All he wanted was to make love to her. Over and over and over again... He could feel his hearts threatening to burst out of his chest as he drank in her pheromones. She was like a drug, eliciting feelings and responses that were at once obscenely unnatural to his biological chemistry and beautifully _right_ in every way.

"I want you, Charley," he whispered into her ear.

She shivered. "You already have me."

"I want to be inside of you."

"I thought we couldn't do that."

He groaned in need. "That doesn't mean I can't want it."

She moaned, hips rocking into his hand as one of hers found their way into his hair, pulling him closer. The other worked at the clasp of his trousers, fumbling until she got it undone. Slipping it in, she hesitated only briefly before wrapping her fingers around his length.

It only took one slow stroke from base to tip. He felt the blood rush to his groin, felt the swelling as he grew in her hand. Three days of near-continual fantasy and one instant of mind-numbing pleasure. His eyes rolled back, his gasps for breath turned to a low, desperate groan, and he lost even the ability to wonder why as his body released. Onto her hand, her wrist, the grass, he didn't care. There was no control, no thoughts of right and wrong, biology and chemistry and species and rules and social taboos. There was only pleasure, hips jerking, mind blank and white, eyes shut hard as he let out a guttural sound from somewhere deep inside of him.

As he slowly, breathlessly came back to his senses, he was overwhelmingly aware of her, lying beside him. Her eyes were wide, slightly startled, watching him. He'd caught her off guard, and he knew it instantly. That was no surprise. He'd caught _himself _off guard with his lack of control. Had he ever felt anything so... primal?

Slowly, she removed her hand and wiped it on the grass next to her. She swallowed and blinked slowly. "Um, right, well..."

He breathed heavily, and closed his eyes again, his fingers still buried inside of her. "Sorry," he whispered, still trying to catch his breath.

He took a moment, inhaled a few times as deeply as he could, and swallowed hard. But he was too dizzy and felt too good to really worry about things like shame and heartfelt apology. When he finally opened his eyes to look at her again, he found himself laughing, using his free hand to push her hair back from her face gently.

She was still watching him, curious and more than a little befuddled. But she smiled at the sound of his laughter and raised a brow. "What's so funny?"

He chuckled again, then leaned closer, kissing her softly as he slowly withdrew his fingers, then slid them back inside of her, deep and slow. "A nine hundred year old Time Lord with the self-control of a fifteen year old human?" he whispered into her ear. "You've gotta admit, Charley, that's quite amusing."

She paused, then snickered with him. "Yes, I suppose that is rather funny."

"And then there's you..." Still smiling, he leaned down and kissed her again, lips barely touching hers as he stroked his fingers slowly in and out of her heat. "The perfect picture of control... "

She groaned and laughed, eyes rolling back slightly as her hands took fistfuls of red grass and the dress that was bunched at her waist. He drew in a deep breath, and pushed himself up, setting one hand on her knee as he moved slowly between her legs.

"I might just have to do something about that."

"Is that so? And just how- oh!" Sucking in a breath, she let it out in a rush as he pressed his thumb against her clitoris and rubbed hard. She gave a short laugh between moans and gasps for air as his fingers thrust gently, exploring her, while he massaged her most sensitive nerves. "That... would definitely do it."

"Spread your legs, Charley."

Shivering and licking her lips, she bit the lower one as she arched her back slightly, opening her legs further. She was dripping with want, and a fresh wave of pheromones hit him. He smiled as he drew them in, and looked down at her.

"Please," she whispered, barely audible.

Suddenly the desire he felt was all he could think about. Not the animalistic need for release, but the simple, beautiful longing for her. There she was. Fully exposed. Vulnerable. Over-heated. Wanting. Needing. Craving. _Begging_. And then there was the flush on her chest and neck and face... The look of wonder and desire that in her eyes... The apex of her legs directly in front of him, bare and aching...

He blew out a staggering breath and swallowed heavily. His mind flashed with visions. He wanted to crawl between her legs and combine their bodies - push into her and pull her to him, feel her throbbing around him and pulse inside of her until the uttermost final moment, and then explode until she moaned for him and -

"Doctor?" she whimpered, her hand brushing his wrist, reaching down to encourage the fingers that were still inside of her. He snapped back to reality and smiled down at her, brushing lightly with his thumb and watching as she gasped, her body trembling with excitement and anticipation.

"Please," she gasped again, and his breathing staggered.

She inhaled slowly, her chest rising, her lashes fluttering, her lips slightly parted... He exhaled with her. He licked his lips as he lowered himself slowly and tentatively ran his tongue along the edge of her sex. She moaned. He swallowed. And suddenly, it was all he could do not to bury his face in her warmth and drink until he'd had his fill.

Drawing in a deep breath, he smiled for a moment before he pushed his tongue inside. Hot. Human and hot and wet and salty and complex. He had to stifle a groan, feeling her walls and the heated texture of her insides. He moved up, pulling gently at her clit with his teeth, giving her body the time and incentive to produce more of her precious fluids. Her breath was audible, even over the pounding of blood in his own ears. And she tasted absolutely incredible.

She arched her back, her hands burying in his hair, encouraging him on as he kissed and licked her, thrusting his fingers gently in and out of her as he pulled with his teeth. He could feel her insides throbbing. She was hot and wet and bothered, sweaty and sticky and perfect. He would never forget again just how good she tasted. Pressing his free hand to her thigh, he kept her legs parted wide as he felt the blood rush, warming her under his tongue, making her body produce even more of her fluids. He licked them off of his fingers, and closed his mouth around her, kissing her lower lips deeply.

She dug her heels into the soft dirt, pressing her hips into him. One hand tangled in her own hair, tugging as the other clawed at the ground, tearing up the red grass. Her teeth were clenched and breaths coming in short gasps as her walls began to spasm, clenching around his fingers as soon as he reinserted them. Her legs began to quiver. He moved harder and faster, kissing and sucking. He wanted to tell her how hard she was making him, all over again. He wanted to tell her how much he loved every minute of this. But he couldn't speak.

She thrashed around, her fingernails tearing into the grass. The scream was strained at first, like she was fighting it. Eventually, as her whole body tensed and back arched, she let it go as she gave herself over to pleasure. Then it was loud and long and primal, her back bent into a perfect upside-down 'U', her legs tense and pulled up high, toes curled, heels digging into the dirt. Her entire body was shaking. Hot and perfect and beautiful, just the way he'd wanted.

Finally, spent, her whole body went limp, panting as she tried to replenish her lungs. He moved away from her most sensitive places as he slowly withdrew his fingers from her warmth and gently, carefully licked her clean. She whimpered weakly, but didn't move.

Finally, he rose beside her, pulling her head under his chin and cradling her gently as he kissed her cheek. "Are you satisfied, Charley?"

She nuzzled into him and nodded. Sighing deeply, she cleared her throat a couple times before she spoke. "Completely."

He smiled, and nuzzled her gently, running his fingers lightly from her bent knee down the soft skin of her thigh. "You're so beautiful."

"Mmm..."

He found the bottom of her dress around her waist and pulled it gently down, covering her again as she rested her leg. Sighing with contentment, she melted into him. "Thank you, Doctor."

He smiled as he rested his head against hers and closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of her one last time as he let himself quietly drift off to sleep. There would be plenty of time for words later. Right now, he simply wanted to hold her close to him.


End file.
